Calm Like a Bomb
by this-zombie-life
Summary: Missing scene from "I Will Rise Up," where a grieving Eric confronts a smug Nan. Rated "M" for violence towards women and naughty, naughty swear words. This is a repost, because I'm an idiot and had to redo it.


Author's Note – Seriously...how did I not get into _True Blood_ until now? It's fantastic, and I'm utterly addicted. I have the first and second seasons on DVD, but I don't have HBO...so no third season for me, yet. If this conflicts with anything shown therein, just chalk this up as non-canon. Also, I've never written about anything supernatural like this – the term "dash" is meant to show a vampire utilizing their super-speed.

This is a missing scene from the end of "I Will Rise Up." The title is taken from the song by Rage Against the Machine, and fits the themes pretty well.

"Calm Like a Bomb"

Darkened windows cut out the first grey streaks of light that Eric knew were appearing over the cityscape. The tears had dried, crimson streaks on his face when the sensation hit him. Even though he was sitting on the bed, Eric almost doubled over in pain. It wasn't pain, not in the strict sense that vampires and humans would understand – it was absence, emptiness – the lack of a presence in the back of his mind that had existed for over a millennia. _That's it_, he thought. _He's gone_. _Gone_.

_We don't belong here_.

_But we ARE HERE!_

Eric shook his head, his last conversation with his maker endlessly replaying in his mind. _What didn't I see, Godric? What changed?_

_I will keep you alive by force!_

_Even if you could, why would you be so cruel?_

He couldn't contain himself. Fresh tears ran down to re-coat his pale skin. The warrior in him rebelled at the indulgence, the vampire in him saw it as a human weakness he had long since shed. It didn't matter. He still wept.

In the corner of his mind that was always focused – Vikings were nothing if not an aware people, and years as a vampire had only increased it – Eric heard footsteps down the hallway outside his room. He was fully content to ignore them. He had lost Godric, what did some pathetic fangbanger or fledgling matter? Even Isabella, the new Sheriff, had understood to leave well enough alone once news had reached her of Godric's suicide.

"In a way, this works for us. Godric had gone soft in the head, feeling like he did for the humans and co-existence. He must have been pathetic to really believe in equality as anything less than a political necessity. A sad little Sheriff, and now just some sad little ashes floating on the wind." Nan Flanagan's harsh voice cut through his misery and the absence in his mind.

Eric's eyes flew open, and he felt his fangs snap into place. _Godric isn't here now, bureaucrat._

_

* * *

_Flanked by two assistants, Nan Flanagan left her hotel room and walked down the hallway. Her iPhone rang in her purse, and she dug for it. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed one of her assistants playing with his new powers, dashing his hand back and forth through the air. _Fledglings_, she thought. _What's his name again? Karl?_ She shook her head. Regardless, he has an impressive political mind. She finally found her phone, and glanced at the screen. _Shit_.

She cleared her throat, then answered. "Yes, I was just going to call you. The situation here is handled, for the most part...no, a political denouncement will work, no need for a force deployment."

The trio continued to walk down the hallway as Nan talked. "Yes, Godric went to them willingly...I have no idea why, you knew the way he was." The fledgling and her other companion pretended not to hear the sharp voice at the other end of the line..

Reaching the end of the hallway, Nan pressed the summons button for the elevator. "Yes, I'll be back shortly. I'll give a full report then." She sighed, and hung up. Waiting for the elevator, she turned and leaned against the wall. She pinched the bridge of her nose with thumb and forefinger.

One of her assistants cleared his throat. "Something wrong, Ma'am?"

Nan shook her head. "Just in need of a good meal."

The fledgling raised an eyebrow. "I may be out of line, but won't Godric's suicide potentially play against us? If the Fellowship realizes it, they could easily claim a victory. 'Persuaded vampire meets sun' sort of headline."

Nan smiled. _I was right, even if he was a little old to be turned._ "In a way, this works for us. Godric had gone soft in the head, feeling like he did for the humans and co-existence. He must have been pathetic to really believe in equality as anything less than a political necessity. A sad little Sheriff, and now just some sad little ashes floating on the wind."

The fledgling nodded, thinking. "True, Ma'am. He could be sold as a turncoat, perhaps suffering from Stockholm Syndro–"

A hotel room door exploded down the hallway, cutting off his sentence. In the midst of flying splinters stood Eric Northman, Sheriff and Godric's child. A snear touched Nan's lips. _Really? You think I'm that human, to be impressed by your manly vigor?_ Her lips were opening to make the exact same remark verbally when the Viking began to move. He dashed forward, snatching a long sliver of wood out of the air as he moved.

Her two assistants stepped in front of her, shielding her – _even the fledgling, that's remarkable_ – but before either could do anything, Eric was on them. He aimed a kick forward at the elder assistant, connecting in his diaphragm. The assistant flew backwards into the wall, imbedded half-in and half-out of it. The Sheriff turned, already throwing a haymaker at the fledgling. It connected with a bone-shattering **crack!** and the young vampire dropped like a stone.

Eric took a deep breath, then turned to look at Nan. She saw the dried path of tears down his face, and (despite herself) was surprised. _I really didn't think he had that in him._ She was fairly sure she could out-dash him, but he was more well-versed in combat. "Very impressive, Viking. All done, or should I play the cheerleader and clap?"

The other vampire didn't respond. His free hand clenched, and before Nan could move she felt it close around her throat as he lifted her into the air. "Were you saying something about my Maker?" Eric asked.

Both of Nan's hands closed around his wrist. She naturally had no need to breathe, but the lack of control was the same as any human would have experienced in the same situation. She gasped for air, her eyes hard. "What are you thinking, Viking? The Authority will have your fangs if you touch me."

The Viking snarled, bringing his face close to her's. "Do you think I CARE?" He brought the piece of wood up, setting the end of it right below Nan's collarbone. "The only reason I didn't throw you off the building was Godric's word. He isn't here, as you so aptly noted. What's stopping me now?"

Nan's eyes glanced right, then left. The hallway was utterly bereft of movement, and she was sure anyone still in their rooms were probably huddling as far from the hallway as they could. One corner of Eric's mouth twitched upwards, and she could barely make out the edge of one fang. "Where's your power now, Ms. Television? Still think you could have my position?"

_Think, for fuck's sake!_ "I-I think your decision-making abilities might be a bit less than usual here, Viki–" She gasped as Eric slammed her back against the wall, her head cracking against a painting. The two matched eyes, and she saw nothing but rage and loss in the Viking's blue orbs. For the first time in centuries, Nan felt fear slide into her mind like a shadow at noon.

The bell announcing the elevator's arrival ended the silence like the bomb that had so recently taken three of their kind. Eric broke the stare to look at the elevator, and then looked back. He smirked. _That was my chance! Fuck, Nan, are you seriously that scared of him? _He released Nan's neck, letting her fall to the floor in a heap.

"I'll only say this once, bureaucrat. Demean my Maker again, and I'll stake you out on a rooftop to watch the human's precious little orb climb into the sky." He threw the wooden shaft at her feet, and ran a hand through his hair. They locked eyes once more, and the Viking seemed satisfied with what he saw. He walked back down the hall towards his room.

Forcing herself up, Nan dragged her two assistants into the elevator. Finally inside herself, she punched the button for the sub-lobby where limos were waiting. As she pulled her hand away from the console of buttons, however, she looked at it – her hand was actually shaking. _This–this is ridiculous! I'm Nan Flanagan, there's no way I'm scared of some crap Sheriff!_

Her hands never stopped shaking until she was closed in the travel pod.


End file.
